


Things To Remember Late At Night

by walkingparadise



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:39:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6508942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkingparadise/pseuds/walkingparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two people struggling to remember what is important in life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things To Remember Late At Night

**Author's Note:**

> [TW- Depression. Alcohol. Suicide Mention. Domestic Violence Mention. Rape Mention. Abuse Mention. Language.]
> 
>  
> 
> [Inside Out - The Chainsmokers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oygNmMISdC0)

You sat alone in your room thinking over every little thing you did just a while ago, waiting for something new to happen.  


It was your summer vacation and all your friends—at least the ones you actually talked to once in awhile—were away with their families visiting Peru or the Grand Canyon or Paris to celebrate their graduation. And you sat in between those four white walls that had become your only sanctuary, the ones that you cried and cried in multiple times because the world was too much for your sweet little heart.  


I only know this now because you found your peace in me, a sense of comfort that you could never have with anyone else. You told me of all the times you sat alone in your room and talked to yourself because there was no one else to talk to.  


But you didn't know me the summer of ‘09, so you sat alone in the empty silence of your home. By that time, you didn't know if it was ‘home’ considering all the times you felt lonelier in there than anywhere else; there was no home for you. You thought about when you were in the coffee shop a little while earlier. You had finally gathered up the courage to get out of your house—out of your bed—and get some food.  


You lived a block away from the amazing café that you told all of your friends about, all two of them. But you also hated that café because it was always so busy and your classmates often hung out in there; you didn’t want to see them. Despite your anxiety, you managed to walk into the cool, vibrant shop and order a cup of coffee—a cappuccino, I think.  


You were eighteen years old, heading off to college in the fall, and you were a little glad because you wanted to move far, far away from the town you grew up in, not that there was anything wrong with it. In fact, it wasn’t bad at all. You just believed you didn’t belong in a high-end neighborhood like that; you believed you didn’t belong anywhere.  


You sat down at the back of the café and waited for your coffee to arrive. With your earbuds in, you scanned the room, taking note of all the people rushing in and out of the shop to get to work. The café walls were cement grey, but the paintings were colorful—full of life and energy. It was as if someone mixed all sorts of bright colors together and splattered them on a canvas. The paintings were always so beautiful; you didn’t care for whatever they were supposed to be, you just loved the colors.  


The girl you went to elementary school with brought you your cup with a smile and you wondered if she recognized you because you recognized her. A group of peers who you used to talk to in middle school walked into the coffee shop with bright, white smiles and jokes, and you hurriedly chugged the entire mug of coffee nonstop. You left with your head down and within ten minutes you were back in your room. Your stomach ached from all the coffee all at once and your tongue stung, but that’s what you do when you feel like you can’t face another person: you leave.  


And then you cried once again because you left once again.  


——  


We met your freshman year of college. I sat next to you in biology class and we were partners the entire semester because we didn’t know anyone else in the class. You didn’t talk much and you beat yourself up over it, but I didn’t mind; I liked talking anyway.  


Near the end of the semester, I asked you out to coffee and you hesitated, murmured a small ‘maybe,’ and left. I didn’t know you much at the time, so I thought you hated me and when I got into bed that day, I told myself that I would back off and leave you alone.  


We didn’t speak a lot after that and I didn’t know at the time, but you meant to say yes instead of maybe. Though, you never let yourself have good things, so you never told me.  


One day, long after the semester ended, you texted me asking for coffee. I wondered why you waited so long to ask, but now I know it was because you were afraid of rejection. Aside from that, you were more scared that I would say yes and that I would get to know you because you didn’t want anyone to know you.  


You wished that we could go to your favorite café, but it was miles away—back home—so, we just went to Starbucks because it was the closest coffee shop to the dorms. You wore jeans and a sweater even though it was practically a hundred degrees outside and I kept bugging you to take it off; I didn’t understand why you had it on. Now I know it was your safety net—your shield from the rest of the world.  


We walked to the bookstore and you showed me your favorite book, though I had never heard of it before. It was the first time you spoke since we met that day. Your face lit up when you spotted the book on the shelf and I saw you smile for real for the first time ever. It was short, but sweet; you were always insecure about the way your eyes squinted when you smiled.  


I walked you to your dorm and, when I dropped you off, I walked straight back to the bookstore and bought the book you showed me. I spent all night reading it and I was so tired that I missed my classes the next day, but it was worth it.  


The first real conversation we had that wasn’t about biology was about a week after our coffee ‘date.’ I brought up your favorite book after I finished reading it and we talked about it for hours. I’d never seen you so passionate about anything before. Afterwards, you apologized and I told you not to, but you did anyway because you felt like you were too much—because people used to tell you the things you cared about didn’t matter in the ‘real world.’  


After a couple months, I asked you to dinner for an official date and you declined because you hated yourself and you didn’t want to bring me down with you. You didn’t know why someone like me showed an interest in someone like you. When you asked me why I wanted to take you out, I shrugged; I didn’t know why. There wasn’t just one thing that I could pinpoint—it was everything about you. The way your lips turned upward ever so slightly because you didn’t want anyone to see your soft smile; the way you would zone out and stare into space, lost in the maze of your mind; the way you were always so gentle with other people, no matter how violent you were with yourself.  


I cried that night not because you rejected me, but because I realized that I couldn’t make everything better just by being there for you—that my love couldn’t rid you off all the horrid thoughts that people shoved into your mind.  


The next day you could tell I had cried because you knew what sadness lingering for a day longer looked like; you saw it in yourself too often. But you never asked why. You told me about yourself for the first time—told me that you were sorry for not being more open and trusting. I knew you had rehearsed it a million times before because that was who you were, but you still teared up a little when you spoke.  


One day you told me you were going to see a therapist for the first time and you wanted me to come along. We didn’t talk about it on the bus ride there because you didn’t want to and that was okay with me. Instead, I told you funny stories to lighten the mood because you were so anxious about opening up to someone for the first time ever. When we arrived, I waited outside for the entire hour because you didn’t want me to hear whatever you were going to say; you thought that the things that made you cry made you weak and you didn’t want to be weak, especially not in front of me.  


No matter how many times you contradicted yourself, I supported you because you were trying your best and that’s all you needed to do. I wanted to tell you of how brave you were for fighting the one thing that’s haunted you the most.  


When you came out, we didn’t talk about it. And I developed a habit of going to the bookstore across the street as I waited for you every Saturday.  


——  


When you felt like you could trust me, you told me about that time in the coffee shop. In a way, it was the first time you let me be in your life. And when I asked you who hurt you so bad that you felt like you didn’t deserve to live, you cried again. Later, I learned that nothing happened to you. You were never raped or abused, you just were the way you were. I thought that people aren’t just naturally sad and that things happen to them to make them feel the way they do, but I never told you because I didn’t want to argue. That day, I promised myself that I would never leave you because you were more precious than anyone in the entire world. I didn’t tell you that either because I knew you would get mad at me for ‘pitying’ you, but I wasn’t. I wanted to be there for you, to show you that this world isn’t all bad.  


A week later, you finally let me take you out on our first date. I was excited to take you to my favorite restaurant and you laughed when I picked you up because you thought that maybe it was okay to get excited about stupid little things, and the thought was ridiculous to you. The restaurant was a ways away, so I had to borrow my friend’s old, groggy car to take you. We gagged at the smell of sweaty socks and had to drive on the freeway with the windows rolled all the way down. And when we got out, we laughed because we looked like we had just gone through a tornado. You let me touch you for the first time in an attempt to make your hair presentable in the semi-fancy dinner we were about to attend.  


When we were seated, I ordered some sort of seafood pasta and you had steak because you were never a big fan of seafood. You told me you didn’t like it when people watched you eat, so I looked down at my food the entire meal, but I could see you smile slightly out of the corner of my eye.  


After we ate, I took you to frozen yogurt. The place was across the street, so we walked in the cold. The wind blew our already-messed-up hair and when we entered the place, you kept on touching your hair because you were self-conscious about it, even when I told you that you looked beautiful. You didn’t deny it because people told you it was annoying when you didn’t accept compliments, but you thought I only said that to make you feel better, not because I meant it. I did mean it, though.  


We ate in the empty frozen yogurt place and talked about whatever. You laughed and smiled and you seemed at ease with me. I loved that.  


When we returned back to the car, I whined about the smell and we both stood outside for a while, not wanting to get in. The sun was just setting and the golden light shone in your eyes, forcing you to squint. It traveled across your face and your arms and touched the parts of you that I wanted to touch. You leaned against the car and stared at me in amazement, as if you couldn’t believe that I was real and I was here. I wondered if I made you forget about all the bad thoughts in your head for just a second. I like to think that I did.  


I knew you didn’t like being touched, so I asked you if I could kiss you. You shrugged because you’ve never been kissed before and you were scared that if I kissed you, then you would fall in love. And you didn’t want to fall in love because you learned that everyone you love leaves you.  


I didn’t want to push you to do something you didn’t want to do, so I didn’t lean in. But you wanted to take a chance—a risk—just once in your life and you thought that I was worth whatever the consequences may be, so you kissed me. I smiled into it because your hands hung at your sides as if you didn’t know what to do with them—so I took your hands and wrapped them around me. You were stiff and smiled shyly afterward, like a little kid smiling to their crush.  


The next day, I stopped by your dorm to surprise you and your roommate answered the door. She said you wanted to be alone and sent me away. I thought you changed your mind and you didn’t like me anymore. You wouldn’t answer any of my texts and we didn’t see each other for a week or two.  


Then you showed up at my dorm room and you apologized a million times even though I told you it was okay. You explained that sometimes you get really sad and sometimes you can’t stand to be around other people. I told you that you don’t have to close yourself off from me and you said that that’s not an option—that you just get sad sometimes and there’s nothing anybody can do about it, not even me.  


——  


One year later, on your twenty-first birthday, I took you out to get wasted, but when you took your first sip, you gagged and nearly threw up all over the bar. I laughed and took you back to your dorm room. Your roommate was out all night, so I stayed and we talked instead of drunk. We lied on your bed and stared at the ceiling. For the first time, I told you I loved you and that I was going to marry you someday when we were older and more mature, and you laughed and told me that was bullshit. You said that I didn’t want to marry the bad parts of you—the parts when you cried and cried simply because you couldn’t find your pencil, and the parts when you sat in your room the entire day ignoring everyone in the world, and the parts when you thought that maybe life wasn’t worth living. You said that I couldn’t love your flaws away. Then I said that I loved you despite your flaws and that you deserved love, no matter how much you thought you didn’t. That was the day you let yourself fall in love with me.  


You kissed me and you weren’t stiff anymore because you kissed me a lot now and you felt at home in my arms. And then we stripped off our clothes and I kissed the parts of you that you never let anybody see.  


I woke up with your arm around me and I told myself that I wanted that every morning. I traced the faint scars on your arm, wondering how long it’s been since you took a blade to your skin. When you woke, you covered your arm with the blanket because you didn’t want me to see the scars, but that didn’t matter to me because you were here now and you were happy now.  


That year I flew home with you on winter break to meet your family—back to the town that you felt you never belonged in, but this time you felt that you did belong because you were starting to let yourself have good things. Sometimes I overheard you talking to yourself. _I deserve to live—to be here_ , you told yourself as if you were trying to convince yourself that it was true.  


Your family loved me. You wondered how I could talk to them so well because you stuttered every time you talked to a stranger. Your mother showed me all your baby pictures and you were embarrassed, but you didn’t stop her. Your brother came home as well and you hugged him for five minutes straight because you hadn’t seen him in a couple years.  


We slept in your old room on your old bed. It was a twin-sized mattress, so it was a little cramped and your mother offered us the guest room with a larger bed, but I wanted to stay in your room. I wanted to know what it felt like to be between those four white walls that you cried in countless times. And I didn’t mind the space, I wanted to be closer to you anyway.  


The next morning you took me to the café across the street and I remembered the story you told me about that place. You ordered a cappuccino again and I had a flat white, and we sat at the same back table as you sat at that other time. Then I kissed you and you were nervous because you never kissed in front of other people. I told you to forget about them, though I knew you wouldn’t. You asked me why I did that and I told you it was so you would have a new story in this café. When you thought of this place, you wouldn’t think of running away with your head to the ground, you would think of me and the feeling of warm lips in the cold air.  


On Christmas morning, we went downstairs in our pajamas with the rest of your family and you made me coffee because it was your family’s tradition to have coffee together every Christmas and you wanted me to feel like family.  


You told me about when you and your brother were little and would beg your parents for coffee so you could feel like an adult. You wanted to be all grown up, but you never realized the responsibility of an adult. The two of you would drink hot chocolate instead and pour in the chocolate powder as if it were white sugar. Then, you would take popsicle sticks and mix your drink the exact same way you saw your parents mix theirs.  


When you were thirteen your parents finally let you try some coffee and your face twisted when you had that bitter first sip. You learned that coffee grows on you.  


We opened presents and smiled and laughed. I got you a copy of your favorite book signed by your favorite author. I had to drive five hours one day to get her signature, but it was worth it to see the smile on your face.  


The night of New Year’s Eve we went to a bar with the rest of your family. You hated drinking because it made you feel sick, so you became the designated driver. I insisted on staying sober with you, but by the end of the night I was wasted. We counted down the last few seconds of the year for the first time together and I kissed you as everyone in the bar screamed ‘Happy New Year.’ You told me the alcohol in my breath made you want to puke, but you kissed me anyway because that didn’t matter to you. Afterward, you told me you loved me for the first time, and then you kissed me again and again and again.  


When I woke up the next morning, you were staring at me with a smile. My head was pounding, but I didn’t want to move away from your comfy arms and your warm smile. You asked me if I remembered anything from last night and I said no. Your smile faltered a little because I couldn’t remember the first time you let yourself be with me fully, but you were also happy because you could do it all over again.  


So, you grabbed my face in both your hands and kissed me as if it was the last time you were going to kiss me. And you told me that you loved me in a whisper because you weren’t strong enough to say it louder. I could feel your body tremble, scared to let yourself trust someone wholly; you didn’t want to get hurt again. Then, I told you I loved you too and you weren’t shaking anymore. I kissed your lips and your neck and your breasts and your stomach. My fingers trailed in between your legs and you gasped and told me your parents were less than fifty feet away. I said that I didn’t care; I just wanted to touch you.  


When we flew back, you fell asleep on my shoulder because you wanted to touch me as well. A little drool dripped out of the corner of your mouth and I smiled because you would never let yourself fall asleep in front of anyone else.  


——  


One day, you told me that, when I asked you to dinner all those years ago, you were afraid to be with me because you thought you were a bad person. You babysat your neighbor’s daughter once and she irritated you so much that you hated kids. Another time, your mother was poking around in your room because you were a private person and you never told her anything about you. You got so angry that you yelled at her for the first time in your life. You thought these things made you a bad person. Then, I told you that you aren’t bad because people irritate you sometimes; everyone gets angry once in awhile and there’s nothing wrong with that.  


I wanted you to know that I wasn't flawless either, so I told you about me when I was a child and how my father used to beat my mother and how he’s in jail now. I would stay out everyday after school until it was dark just to escape him, and when I came home my father was so far gone he couldn't even recognize me. My mother did everything she could to protect me from him. When you learned that, you couldn't believe it. The thought never occurred to you that I wasn't perfect because I never showed it.  


You held me the way that I held you when you told me about the time you tried to kill yourself. You promised me that you would never hurt me the way my father hurt my mother, and that meant the world to me. You told me about how everyone has that one thing in their life that changes them forever and how you think about that a lot.  


On graduation day, you wore the long, blue cap and gown that you thought you’d never wear because you wouldn’t live long enough to. And I kissed you because you looked so beautiful and so happy as you held your diploma in your sweaty hands. Your family was there, too, and you cried because you had made it so far.  


That night, you told me about how, when you were handed your diploma, you thought about all the times you sat alone in your room. You never thought you’d go anywhere in life and here you are now. You thanked me and told me that without my support, you wouldn’t be alive today. And I told you that it was all you—that it was your own strength that carried you this far. You cried tears of joy because no one ever told you that you were enough.  


——  


Now, we’re twenty-five years old, and we have been together for five long years. We moved in together after we graduated college and we both found stable jobs not far from our apartment. Every day, I wake up next to your smiling face and I come home to see you smile once again. I wonder if you think about how far we’ve come as much as I do. I wonder if you think about that time when you sat in the back of biology class, away from everyone else because you didn’t know them and you were afraid of them. And I wonder what you first thought about me when I took a seat next to you.  


Maybe you don’t think about these things anymore because you don’t have to—because right now is more important to think about than whatever happened in the past. You don’t have to worry about sitting alone between four white walls and crying and feeling lonely anymore. You don’t have to worry about burning your tongue as you chug your hot coffee. And you don’t have to worry about leaving with your eyes glued to the floor in front of you, because you hold your head up high now. The things that made you tremble in the past don’t matter anymore. The only thing that matters is you being here in the present.  


On my day off, I cook a fancy steak dinner, just like the one you had on our first date. I set up candles all over the apartment with the scent of vanilla bean because you love the smell of vanilla. I run to the shower just before you get home to scrub the smell of steak out of my skin.  


By the time you get home, I smelled of lavender and you ask me what the occasion was. I ignore you and ask you to sit down at the dinner table, with the steak laid down and the bottle of apple cider open because you couldn’t stomach champagne.  


I couldn’t stop staring at you as we ate because I was excited to ask you to marry me. You didn’t mind me staring and you felt a sort of comfort in it now. I had a feeling you knew why I was so happy and that made you happier yourself.  


You tell me about your day as you eat. I couldn’t eat myself because I was too nervous. The small box with the ring sat on the chair in between my legs and I kept fiddling with it, wondering when was the perfect moment to ask you.  


“What?” You ask with a smile. You notice my eyes flicker down to my hands every couple of seconds.  


Then, I get out of my chair with the small box clenched in my fist behind my back so you wouldn’t see it. You stand up as well and ignore me when I tell you to stay seated. It wasn’t the perfect moment, but there’s never a perfect moment. I start rambling nervously about you and me and how long it’s been. I always ramble when I’m nervous, and you loved that because you were the complete opposite.  


I tell you I love you more than anything in the entire world and you nod as if already answering the question I was going to ask. And when I finally ask you, you whisper ‘yes’ the exact same way you said ‘I love you’ to me for the first—well, technically second time.  


Then, I hug you and kiss you because that’s what people do when they’re going to spend the rest of their life with someone they love.  


You never thought you’d graduate college or even high school and you never thought you’d find a job that you love and you never thought you’d find the person that you love. And it’s funny how life works—how one day you never want to live and the next you never want to die. As you hug me, you wish that you could go back in time and tell the sad, lonely kid sitting between those four white walls that it’ll be alright, because that was everything that you needed at the time. It is going to be okay, you tell yourself softly. And it will be.


End file.
